Don't Take This Risk: Ready, Aim
by Artemis Ameretsu
Summary: Based off a particularly bad ending from Don't Take This Risk, I decided to write a slightly happier ending, if by happier, everyone survives. That counts for something, no? Suggestive language, suicidal thoughts and actions. Please don't read this if you're sensitive to these kinds of materials or if you haven't played the game yet (that cinnamon roll needs love!)


Authors Note: **Trigger warning for the following**

 **Suicidal thoughts, actions, unhealthy mindsets, and** **slightly sexual implications**

 **Nothing graphic.**

 **This is a fiction based on the game Do Not Take This Risk, an otome like game where the main character is a suicidal man who calls you by accident trying to reach the suicide hotline. This is a spin on one of the 9 endings where you do accidentally kill him.**

 **If you have not played this game, you will likely not understand all the implications, I highly recommend it (its free!) so long as you don't find the thought of not saving him in some endings too disturbing**

 **Which is why I re-wrote this particular ending from the game to my liking.**

 **Because I like vaguely happy endings damn it.**

You hover uncertainly, straddling his waistline. You weren't sure what he had meant when he said "Do you want to play?" To be honest it had sounded menacing and you had preemptively pushed him to the bed unaware of how.. embarrassing a position it was going to put you in.

He seemed to catch on to your discomfort and laughed.

"Aha, you win, now what kitten?"

His hand strokes along your wrist and his eyes pierce you as he slowly pulls it forward, pressing a hot kiss to your palm with a salacious grin.

"I.. I'm calling the police." You attempt to be firm but your voice wavers, he needs more help than you're capable of giving him and at this rate you might do something regrettable.

His charming mask slides away like water and his lip curls.

"Oh? And what are you going to tell them? That I attacked you? That I want to end my miserable existence?"

He glares at your taken aback expression.

"Or... is it both? Heh.. that's fine. That's... fine."

A sort of resignation creeps into his voice and he eyes the drawer beside the small bed resentfully.

You begin to protest his cruel accusation, you aren't doing this to hurt him, you want to help more than anything but he cuts you off brusquely.

"There's a gun in my desk, I suggest you shoot me, and put me out of my misery. Because I'm going to bite my tongue off."

Your eyes widen in shock and without thinking you reach across the bed for the side table drawer. Your hand wraps around the grip and time slows to a crawl.

You pull back with it in hand, and almost without effort, aim it at his head. His eyes slide shut and for a moment he looks peaceful as he exhales. Your hand encloses around the gun, your thumb slides the hammer back as your finger rounds the trigger. Your breath stills as the hammer clicks softy.

You can't.

You simply can't. Even if it means watching him drown in his own blood you just can't bring yourself to shoot him.

And so you do the only thing that makes sense to your addled mind in the moment.

You raise the gun and press it to your temple.

Eyes that had fluttered closed in relief now flickered open again in annoyance for a brief moment before widening in horror as your finger clutches the trigger.

You close your own eyes, you don't want to see his fear as you pull.

 **BAM**

Your body flinches, your ears scream a piercing ring incessantly.

You open your eyes and he's there, a scowl to his features, he's saying something, yelling it even, as his hand unwraps from your wrist and throws the gun to the ground.

It doesn't matter though, you still can't hear him as you cradle your ringing head in your hands.

He seems to realize it as well, anger and panic morphing into fear and concern. He pulls you into his arms, the top of your head tucking neatly under his chin.

The smell of skin and sweat and fabric softener lulls you as your senses slowly return.

First your heart beat, pounding a heavy tattoo in your skull.

Then your breathing, coming in obnoxiously loud and hitched waves.

Finally, after who knows how long, the sounds of the surrounding world return ever so slowly and your heart calms as you hear the answering drum beat of its neighbor.

Your arms slide under his blanket, the soft hushed whisper of skin sliding against skin and fabric sets you at ease. Your hands find each other round his back and clutch anxiously at the skin there for comfort.

The heart beat adjacent to your own strikes up a quickened tempo and you nuzzle against the column of flesh where it beats loudest. He swallows, and you hear it as well as his arms tighten around you.

"Please don't try that again love, I might not be here to save you next time."

His voice is light and gentle though the undercurrent is wracked with fear and desperation.

You want to tell him that he wasn't meant to save you, but your mouth betrays you in the last moment.

"Why should it matter to you if I die?"

You hide in the hollow of his shoulder, fearful to know the truth, that nothing matters to a dead man, not even a dead woman.

"I don't know... I only couldn't stand the idea of you dying in front of me if I could stop it. I want you to live..."

A small flutter of hope beats against your rib cage and you place a soft brush of a kiss against his collar bones.

"Then you must know exactly how I felt when you threatened me with your own death."

You nearly didn't mean the accusatory tinge or the injured warble in your voice, but it was there all the same.

"What kind of person do you take me for? Someone cold and callous enough to watch you bleed to death? Or maybe you hoped I would be brave enough to shoot you."

Your breath hitched with a sob and you were vaguely aware of his arms, holding you close already, tighten. Tears pooled in your eyes.

"I just don't want you to die. I couldn't bare to watch when I could have done something and I'd failed.

His fingers wound through your hair and his chest heaved with a soft sigh.

"You are a conundrum pet, you say you love me, yet you've turned me away at ever choice, you strike me even, and yet... Yet when given the chance to be rid of me you would rather die than see it? I don't know what to make of you."

Your fingers wander along his spine, sliding across his back and shoulder blades drawing shivers from him.

"And still you tease me.." Your hands still at the husky drawl, his fingers tighten in your hair desperately, pulling you away so he can look you in the eyes.

"Please tell me, do you love me or do you merely wish to stop my demise?"

Unsure of what he sees there you allow him to lean against you, his tall thin frame bending so that he can nuzzle his lips against the skin of your shoulder exposed by your loose shirt.

"I want you to love me, really truly love me." He confesses quietly, muffled against your skin.

"I want to, if you'll let me try, if you'll give me time..." You have to be honest with him and hope he will understand.

He's so quiet as his lips run up and down a short span of flesh before finally he nods ever so slightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Very well my dear, I will wait for you then. Just..." His breath fans across your throat as he smiles against your skin.

"Don't make me wait too long love."


End file.
